


Be Good Until Then

by Missy



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: Family, Humor, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-13
Updated: 2011-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-27 07:33:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire and Sammy will have to be good until then...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Good Until Then

**Author's Note:**

  * For [voodoochild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoochild/gifts).



> Written for Fandom_Stocking '11 - a drablet that continues the "Better with Three" continuity.

Sam watched the snow fall on his son’s head, dripping down the collar of his winter jacket. This was his first trip to his father’s homebase – the first time he’d ever seen snow – he stuck out his tiny red tongue, puffing out large clouds of oxygen to see it curl and steam up before his big green eyes.

 

The other Claire was coltish at this young age; a runner, with her long pigtails and stubborn, impish expression. Michael was still awkward when at play, even after years of experience in the fatherhood game – he could hug both children fiercely without giving himself entirely to their sweet, foolish games. Together played an improvised game of stickball in the middle of the snow-logged street, Claire crowing like Peter Pan as she winged a snowball over the neighbor’s fence.

 

“Watch your throw,” Sam scolded, earning a shrug and an eyeroll from his daughter. He rolled his eyes back – Claire was too much like her mother, if you asked him, and her wildness was destined to get them all in deep crap someday. And Sam would love every minute – as long as the trouble didn’t involve imminent death.

 

“They’re growing up too quickly,” Fiona complained, resting against the newel post, her face pale pink and glowing in the sunlight.

 

“You were just complaining about Claire,” Sam said, “being a baby.”

“She chewed her dinner with her mouth wide open. My mam would have given me a pop across the back of the head for that.”

 

“You’re getting pedantic in your old age,” Sam teased her.

She gasped. “Sam!”

He shook his head. “Don’t turn around,” Sam instructed. “They’ll be gone before we know it.”

She grinned and tweaked his nose. “Ah, but until then…”

Until then they would play. And Sam could, frankly, think of no better way to pass a fine winter afternoon.


End file.
